


Tough Luck

by throwawayaccount5



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety Attacks, Childhood Trauma, Comfort, Depression, Drug Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, George is main character but story is told in Dreams perspective, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, Sexuality Crisis, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma, Unhealthy Relationships, adding more tags the fanfic progresses, please reach out if you're in a similar position
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:47:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28137921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/throwawayaccount5/pseuds/throwawayaccount5
Summary: Once George moves to Florida, Dream will have him all to himself- right?heavily inspired by sapnaps playlist :')
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Tough Luck

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't send this to any content creator mentioned also don't reupload this on any other platform. <3
> 
> Hotlines :
> 
> Anxiety and Depression Association of America : https://adaa.org/ 240-485-1001
> 
> Children and Adults with ADD/ADHD : https://chadd.org/ 800-233-4050
> 
> Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance : https://www.dbsalliance.org/ 800-826-3622
> 
> OCD Foundation : https://iocdf.org/ 617-973-5801
> 
> Center for Eating Disorders : https://www.nceedus.org/ 800-931-2237
> 
> Schizophernia and Related Disorder Alliance of America : https://sardaa.org/ 240-423-9432
> 
> Sidran Institute [ helps treat traum and dissocation ] : https://www.sidran.org/ 410-825-8888
> 
> Treatment for BPD : https://www.tara4bpd.org/ 888-482-7272
> 
> Suicide Prevention : https://afsp.org/ 888-333-2377 / 1-800-273-8255
> 
> Domestic Violence : https://www.thehotline.org/ 800-799-7233

After Dream had basically begged George, for months on end, to move over to the US, George finally complied and packed his bags, leaving the only safe space he knew behind and starting a new life in a new country. Maybe a change of scenery would do him well. George was happy that he could finally see Dream but he dreaded the day when he would leave his family behind to pursue a career which was so unsteady, he never ever if he could even pay the rent. 

George was super excited yet deep down he was anxious. Scared. Frightened. The real thought of moving made his stomach churn in an unpleasant way. He never really had to move big. His mother and he stayed in the same area throughout all his life. He was new to this. New to moving around. Admittingly, he had only been on a plane twice in his life and neither of those two times was great experiences for him. George would often cling on his mother as if death was staring him right in the eye, burning through his skull. 

Now, being confronted with such a big decision, George often laid awake, thinking if he really made the right choice. To move. To restart. To become a new person. He tossed and turned on his childhood bed, eyes wide open contemplating if this was even a good idea. He cracked his slim knuckles and held himself close. He didn't want to leave the scent which lingered in his room. George didn't want to leave his memories behind. Yet, he wanted to experience change. He wanted to put himself out into the world more than he already did. He wanted to be vulnerable while being at Dream's side. 

Dream, on the other hand, was excited. Over the moon, almost, with George's decision. He finally got to see his best online friend in front of him. He finally got to hug his friend. They could go on picnics, stargaze, go to the beach together- basically spend all their free time together. This was literal heaven for Dream. _Was this going to be as good as I want it to be?_ This thought plagued his mind until his mind was a foggy mess. The rather dark and worrisome thoughts caught up to him. 

Behind the mic, behind the Minecraft videos, behind the screaming and desk banging, Dream was anxious. His personality did a full 180. He wasn't loud or easily angered when surrounded by actual people in front of him. He was rather shy, quiet. He rarely went outside. Dream didn't want to be confronted by people. The thought of talking to strangers got him shaking. He liked being alone. Isolated in his room. 

His room acted like his safe space. He felted comfortable here. He was alone with no one watching him. No eyes falling on him and judging him. He could actively enjoy the hobbies which other people wouldn't find appealing. Dream felt most comfortable when the blaring lights from his monitors shun directly into his eyes and protected him from the darkness which engulfed the rest of his room. The flashing lights which came from Minecraft filled him with a feeling, that couldn't be described. 

* * *

Dream stood at the conveyer belt, at the airport. His hands were pushed into his hoodie pockets and kept fidgeting with each other. Every now and then, he winced in pain as his finger ran over his wounds. Some brand new ones, some from earlier. Others from the weeks before. The anxiety had been getting to his head and it hadn’t responded in a healthy way. Countless hours of laying in bed and staring aimlessly at the dark ceiling. Scratching open his fingertips or the back of his neck. Biting his fingernails until they were non-existent.

His breath hitched as the intercom accounted that George’s flight had arrived and would soon start delivering the suitcases. He, cowardly, crept over to the announced conveyer belt and hid behind a few other people.

Dream didn’t look well. Dark circles greeted his barely open eyes and split lips appeared underneath his red nose. His hair was oily and stuck to his head. He hadn’t taken a shower in a while. The cheap deodorant luckily covered the horrid smell he gave off.

Soon the hundreds of bored people came flooding out of the gate and rushed to the laggy belt to gather their suitcases and rush out. Tall and short, young and old, male and female. Everyone blocked his vision.

Sweat slipped down his neck and collected at his spine. The back of his hoodie was tinted a dark blue from the sweat. His jaw tensed and his hands clenched into fists. Dream’s eyes were trained on a young man. A young, short man with brown hair.

Is that George? Maybe…is it? What if it isn’t? Am I okay? Is this real?

The thought of actually meeting George finally entered his mind. The thought of hugging his best friend and holding him. Keeping him safe and having him for himself. The thoughts lingered in his mind as a small smile split out of his mouth.

His heartbeat slowed and so did his breath. For a second, he felt alone yet warm. His jaw loosened and his hands trailed along his neck to his jaw, gently cupping his face. The thought of George doing that seemed strangely nice. The thought of George giving him affection, of closing the distance with him and holding him tight. 

Yet, he was ripped out of his dreams and fantasies as the same young, slender man gently touched his shoulder. He looked like George yet so different.  
“Hello.. Can you help me with something really quickly?” asked the stranger quietly, not trying to expose his presence.

The dark Hazel eyes burnt into dreams mind. The stranger's soft, pink lips, which were slightly open, made them seem more innocent than they may be. Almost like a mask, protecting them. Brown hair covered the sensitive scalp and hide the forehead of the stranger. 

“Uh…no? Who are you? ”, Dream quickly responded like a bot. His voice quiet and monotone. He hated this. Dream died when the stranger asked him for help. _Why can't they just leave me alone?_

Something about that voice. That touch. The posture. It all reminded him of George. The way the man smelt and smiled. It all just-

“Oh sorry…” he frowned slightly, shrugged and turned away. 

Dream stood there, in shock, and stared at the man. His hands- They were similar to George. His voice. The way he said sorry…and dream. Maybe it was him. Maybe Dream was too in shock to realise.

“G-George?” Dream managed to choke out, almost crying on the inside.

“Yes? I knew it was you.” George quickly spun around, clearly, he had been waiting for him to say his name.

Dreams eyes met Georges and for a moment, dream thought they lit up with joy. A smile, then a laugh, then a wheeze spilt out of George’s mouth and he ran up to Dream, abandoning his suitcases to hug him.

Dream smiled, enjoying the young man's embrace. The laugh sounded like church bells ringing in his head. His hands suddenly felt the fabrics of Georges shirt. They involuntary moved down his back and soon wrapped themselves around George’s waist, pulling him close.

“It’s actually you-“, George mumbled out as his face was shoved into Dream’s chest.

“Shhh- don’t talk. Just enjoy this. Please”, Dream whispered to George.

He secretly wished this moment would last forever. He melted at George’s touch. Their bodies touching each other. Connecting. Their breath matching. Yet dream’s breathing slightly hitched at the touch of George’s fingers on his neck. He stiffened for a second before relaxing. The pain from the wounds was gone. He only felt warmth as George touched his bare skin. The unmarked skin.

_It’s been a few months since George moved into his apartment_

George had recently started texting this girl. She was a beauty. Absolutely jaw-dropping. Yet it didn’t sit right with Dream. He didn’t like that George was now giving all his attention to this girl, he met at a store. Something about the thought of George dating a girl was so upsetting to him. 

Whenever George visited Dream, it’s all he’d talk about and Dream was too shy to tell him to stop or change topics. He just quietly sat there and listened because it made George happy.  
While George was crushing on this stupid girl, Dream was fighting with his emotions for George. He felt conflicted. He liked girls…yet something about George drew him in. Maybe it was just a special case. Maybe it would away soon. Maybe…

He sat there in silence, zoning in and out of reality. Occasionally nodding and agreeing with George. He didn’t feel like paying attention. He wanted to feel the warmth he longed for. The warmth only received when touched by George.

His hands were bruises red and open. Dried blood covered his knuckles and bandages protected his older wounds. He never enjoyed the thought of George meeting the girl. It enraged him. Made his mind spin and punch his walls. Made him scream at the top of his lungs and sob violently.

“..and that’s why I want to see her.”

“Huh? What?”

Dream snapped out of his thoughts and turned to George. His eyes glaring into George’s. His jaw clenched instinctively. It’s something he always did when he was at the brink of loosing it and breaking.

“You want to meet her? What if she’s a bad person?”

“I-.. Dream. Stop, please. You’re-“

“NO GEORGE! I’M WORRIED ABOUT YOU? WHAT IF SHE’S GOING TO HARM YOU?”

He suddenly burst open, getting onto his feet and blurting out words. They echoed in his living room. His eyes burnt. His hands clenched into fists and his fingernails dug into his palms.  
Dream broke. He started yelling. He started becoming the one thing he promised himself to never be around George. The word stung Dream right after they left his mouth. The way in which he yelled that at George.

George just sat there, scared, and tearing up. His posture shrunk and he cowardly sat in the chair opposite Dream. His hands gripped his long-sleeved shirt and his legs dug into the chair.  
His throat felt dry and rough. Even swallowing down the spit felt like an impossible task. His vision became blurry and soon tears started rushing down his cheeks and falling onto his lap.  
George’s hands starting shaking violently whilst he let go of his shirt and held them above himself in a protective manner. His sobs filled the room.

“I- I’m sorry….Clay!” He barely got out before curling into the ball and awaiting the worst.

“No…George. I’m sorry.”, Dream muttered out in a calmer manner. His voice sounded sweet and resourcing.

George only ever used Dream's actual name when it was serious. This made Dream hurt on the inside knowing that George was going to protect his feelings for this girl. George was going to protect that _stupid_ girl. The girl that got in the way of him and George. The girl that ruined Dream's fantasies. 

Dream placed his hand gently onto George’s shoulder, trying not to startle him. Instead, George flinched away and hid from Dream’s touch.

“D-don’t.. Please don’t.” George yelled, still weeping and shaking terribly in fear.

Without saying anything else, Dream simply nodded and sat down on the other end of the room, giving George space, he needed. He had been through this before. Whenever he raised his voice, George became scared and so did he.

He became scared of the monster he became. The monster, he so badly wanted to suppress and forget about yet something about the mention of the girl triggered it. He just wanted George to see the way he felt about him.

But he couldn't help it. He couldn't help raising his voice. Dream wanted- _needed_ to be heard. He needed to knock George back down to reality. Dream just wanted to protect George. 

As George quieted down and collected himself, Dream stood up and grabbed George’s bag, gently placing it onto the sofa before stepping away and keeping his distance.  
“I- I’m going to go now..” George mumbled like always whenever Dream would raise his voice at him. 

Dream opened his voice but nothing came out. Only a short sigh, followed by a nod. He didn’t want to make the situation worse. At least, George now knew his stance. Instead of chasing after the broken George, he stood in the living room, staring at the door whilst George left.

He felt dead. Broken. He felt as if he had just slaughtered his best friend. Maybe he did on the inside. Maybe those words affected George too much. Deep down, he hoped they did. He hoped that this would show George how he really felt about him. He hoped.

That night, he couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned and shut his eyes but to no avail. He felt guilt. Dread. He messed up and he wanted to fix it but he knew George wouldn’t talk to him for a bit.  
He needed his time alone. To recover.

Dream laid on his bed, legs spread apart and hands clenching the sheets in anger. He stared up at the now dark, lifeless ceiling. The night engulfed him and made Dream drown in an ocean. An ocean filled with trouble and guilt. One, so hard to escape that accepting fate would simply be easier. _Right?_

Slowly, he could feel water droplets run down the side of his eyes, down his face and onto the pillows. Not long after, horrid sobs of sadness echoed through the room. Crying was the solution to everything. He didn't have the energy to be mad. He could be mad. 

Choking on the sobs, Dream weakly pushed him upright. His arms shaking and hands still clenching the sheets. His face was drenched in salty tears and his eyes were bloodshot. Dream was a mess. The wounds on his throat hissed as the tears travelled down his jaw and along his throat. 

Soon, after the crying had stopped, Dream could feel a headache coming but he didn't care. He was out of it. He felt so empty, he'd rather live with pain than no feelings. 

_After a year of George moving to Florida_

The ringing of the phone call shook Dream out of his midday nap. Panic shot through his body as he told George to only call him if it was actually important. Most calls were just pranks or George just complaining about how little he got to see Dream. He rubbed his teary eyes and shook his limps to wake up properly before answering. He sluggishly picked up the vibrating phone and slid up to answer.

"Hey George..", His voice was deep and gravely.

"D-dream... I'm sorry for calling", George couldn't even get more than 2 words out before stuttering and choking on his own sobs and gasps for air.

Dream knew exactly what went down. Just from those 3 seconds. He knew because it happened so frequently yet he could do nothing about it even if he tried. And he tired. He thought a wave of anger would flood into his body and take control yet nothing came. Only a sense of disappointment and protectiveness. He didn't like how vulnerable and sensitive George was. He didn't like how open and raw he was. Yet, he liked it at the same time. Something is his body screamed and begged him to protect this George. To protect the shy, small George who was scared of everything.

He liked it when George showed his natural side to him. The weak, little pathetic boy that George really was when the camera wasn't on him. Dream wanted to always have George like this. He wanted to be George's protector and main source of comfort and reassurance. 

"Hey. Hey. Hey. It's okay. You know the rundown- Are you somewhere safe?", Dream muttered out quietly.

"Y-Yes... I think so."

"Okay good. Think about 4 planets. Feel 3 things around you and breathe in on 2 and out on 4", He instructed George.

Just like last week. They made a routine incase of these calls, which happened regularly. Calls where George would sob about his girlfriend and how they'd get into fights about the littlest things. Which then would escalate and she would hit him until he shut up and gave in. Dream had never seen someone's mental health deteriorate so fast. Yet George couldn't leave her. He needed her. Depended on her. And not him.

George was happy when she would be around him. When she would be in his golden bubble. And as soon as she left, he left useless. He felt like nothing without her. His life, his thoughts, his actions, his emotions; they all revolved around her and only her. Only in these cases, where George was sobbing, his thoughts would be with Dream.

"I- 'm doing that..Dream please c-come. I'm scared." George whispered into the mic in between sobs and whimpers.

As much as Dream hated leaving his house at night, especially when it was pouring, his body instinctively got up and hurried to get his keys. He couldn't bear seeing George hurt. It was like someone had brutally punctured his heart. His black hoodie stuck to his black as it shielded him from the pouring water as he made his way down to his car. By the time, he was in his car, he was drenched in cold water. His hair stuck to his face, hanging over his bloodshot eyes. His pants clung to his skin as a leech would. 

The keys jingled in his bruised hand as he pushed them into his back pocket. He was determined to make him break up with the girl. He had enough of the late-night sob call. Enough of the bruises. Enough of the manipulation. _Why was George so blind?? Why? Why? Why? Why couldn't he see what she was doing? Why was he so oblivious? Even when he was crying? Why can't George see that he was a better option than her._

The thoughts raced around in Dreams head, only making his blood boil more. All the pent up anger was let loose at he flung the door shut behind him and hurried to his car, only to hit the gas pedal with full force, almost breaking it while speeding to George's house. He didn't care about getting pulled over. He didn't care at all. George was all he cared about. He couldn't lose him too. No, he couldn't. He wouldn't let that happen.

His hands dug into the steering wheel and his body sunk into the driver's seat. His eyes were raging and his heart was pounding. The wounds on his palms stung as they were met with the sweat he created from the anger. Quiet whines and whines were coming from his mouth. The pain was unbearable. He wanted to stop driving and take care of himself but George- George was more important than some stupid wound.

Dream needed to make sure that George was okay, only then he would look after his wounds. He put George above himself and his own needs because he was scared. Scared of losing him. He didn't need another person walking out on him because he wasn't good enough or gave enough attention. He truly cared about George and this was the only way to show it. He didn't want to his in front of his monitors, aimlessly staring at George's profiles, stalking his every move. 

As Dream reached the dark, lonely apartment complex, his anger had slowly left his soul and only showed it's leftovers in his car. His clothes had decently dried as the car seat pulled Dream into itself and absorbed the wetness. His hair was pushed back and scruffed. His hands clutched his arms as the cold, touch starved wind hit against him. His footsteps filled the void as the night carried on. 

Rushing into the apartment, he was met by the silence which was occasionally broking by the soft whimpers of a puppy. To his demise, he found George pressed against a corner in his bathroom curled together like a helpless pup. Immdetially Dream flung himself at George and pressed the vulnerable guy into his own chest, holding close, never wanting to let him go. He gently rubbed his back and scratched his head, slowly grounding him. Sounds of shushes and quietly humming echoed in the dark bathroom as both men sat there, one comforting the other. 

* * *


End file.
